Grounded
by skatergurljubulee
Summary: It was the sun that woke him. Always was. Ten/Martha. First ever fanfic I wrote. lol


Title: Grounded  
Pairing/ Characters: Ten/Martha  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer: I don't own any characters or scenarios from Doctor Who, and if I did, do you really think Martha and Donna would have been shafted?  
Word Count: 1812  
Beta: The awesome Persiflage on LJ, who was willing to Beta my last minute work and didn't get angry by my random request.  
Feedback: Equals love. But if you are here to flame, well, I'll cut you. Concrit please!  
A/N: My first fanfiction ever. lol I'm just...sorry for the grammatical errors and stuff. It's been a while since I've looked at this, so...yeah. XD 

It was the sun that woke him. Always was. He opened his eyes to the light slanting its way through the bedroom blinds, causing to the room's yellow walls to have deep dimensions that wouldn't be there otherwise.

Dimensions. The word used to mean something to him once upon a time. A time when it was all about the running, all about the danger and the excitement.

_The worse it gets, the more I love it._

He climbed out of bed careful to not wake the sleeping form beside him. He made his way through the cream colored hallway that lead from the bedroom to their kitchen. He went to the bread box and retrieved two pieces of bread and set them into the toaster before going to the stove and turning on the kettle.

_I don't do domestic._

He considered himself a changed man now, a better man perhaps. A thing not concerned with the next big disaster, the next big change in the universe. Oh, he still felt time turning on its axis, still felt the calls from distant worlds asking, needing his help. That would never change, not that he wished it so. But this was his time now. His reprieve.

There was a time when he was bracing for the next world ending, waiting to see if he could make a difference, maybe save a few lives instead of causing all their deaths. Fly in sonic screwdriver blazing and ready to save the day with quick thinking and a cheeky comment. He spent most of his lives living for the next adventure or showing it to a companion who wouldn't have had the opportunity to see otherwise. Now, well, now it had become a habit, a way to help the years stride by, to keep the injustice of what had happened to his people at bay, hadn't it? It was no longer about saving lives or making them better, it wasn't about them anymore. It had become about him.

Truth be told, it had always been about him.

Toast ready and kettle whistling stridently, he went to the refrigerator and grabbed the jam and butter, his familiarity with the kitchen, with the whole house, apparent. He acquired two plates and two mugs, one for him and one for her. He knew he'd hear her making her way into the kitchen after a detour to the bathroom once the alarm clock went off. With her, there were very few surprises to be had.

There was once a time when he would've despised dependability, normalcy and order. There was a time when he despised her dependability, normalcy and order. But that was years and several hundred apologies ago. Now he found everything he'd ever wanted in her. He found safety and clemency and passion and- and, everything.

And just like he would always be able to feel time shift and sway around him, she came into the kitchen, a yawn a mile wide and counting, her white robe draped about her thin yet formidable shoulders. Right on time.

"Morning," she said, her face freshly washed but her droopy eyes still in her dreams.

He leaned a hip against the stove, a mug in one hand, his other wrapped around his waist. He smiled over the mug before taking a sip, "Morning."

Martha's eyes travelled to the matching mug beside the Doctor's hip and her feet dragged her towards the steaming drink as if magnetically connected. After taking a large sip, she exhaled loudly before turning to him and smiling. "That's nice. Really nice. You get better at this every morning."

The Doctor didn't bother to hide his amusement. No matter how many times he saw his wife become one with her tea each morning, it never failed to make him chuckle. He chuckled now. "I would hope so. I've been doing it for the last ten years you know."

Martha laughed and reached up and kissed him quickly on his lips . The Doctor tried to sneak another kiss but found Martha's tea cup obstructing him. Her eyes jumped around cheerfully (and slyly, if he said so himself) before taking another sip of her tea. _Little Minx_. "Yes, that's true. But it hasn't been every day. You don't expect me to believe for a second that you've been making yourself tea while you're gallivanting around time and space while I'm at the hospital, do you?"

"Of course not. I'm bloody brilliant. Has it ever occurred to you that I may be naturally gifted at making tea?"

"Oh, is that so? Is it like being naturally gifted at making toast- toast that you burned day in and day out for three months after our Honeymoon?"

"_Well_, well… that was a special circumstance. You always wanted beans and toast after we made love back then," he huffed. "How was I supposed to be expected to make toast when I could barely stand?"

Martha laughed and placed her mug on the counter before dragging the Doctor's mouth to hers in a leisurely kiss. When they pulled apart she took advantage of the Doctor's speechlessness. He was always quiet after a kiss like that. "You're right. I'm sorry I said that. You were entirely too cute back then and I couldn't help but take advantage."

The Doctor rewarded Martha with a blush and a kiss. The kiss wasn't brief in the least and they only pulled away from each other when they heard the alarm clock buzz a second time in warning.

Martha stepped away and took a bite of her almost forgotten toast, a leer on her face. "We'll have to finish that later since I need to be at the hospital in a few minutes, yeah?"

The Doctor gulped and tried to remember what it was like to have blood circulating through his body and not centralized in his nether regions. "Yeah. Th-that'd be nice."

They each went their separate ways to prepare for their day, meeting in the living room when they were dressed and ready to leave.

Martha pulled her shoulder length hair out from under her coat and looked at the Doctor with a steady glare. "Do try to be careful- and remember to speak slowly when giving the evil alien creatures another chance at life on a different world. I've a lot to do today and I don't have time to prevent an invasion from a race of creatures seeking you out for revenge."

The Doctor gasped, affronted. "I always speak clearly and succinctly when addressing evil villains I'll have you know." He shifted on his feet, "Mostly."

"Of course you do, Dear. Remember, I'm off work at eight this evening so _please_ be home no later than nine-thirty," She kissed him on the lips quickly and headed for the front door of their London home.

"Martha, I can hardly tell a planet on the brink of explosion that I've got places to be. I'll try to be home as close to nine-thirty as possible." It bothered the Doctor that Martha was turning into her mother more and more each day. Well, bothered was the wrong word. Excited was closer to the truth. Martha was irresistible when she was being a task master, he mused. He absently rubbed his shoulder where she'd left love bites the previous evening. Yes, _excited_ was the correct word.

Martha opened the front door and paused. She arched a brow. "Why not? You've done it before. The last time I remembered the TARDIS was a space and _time_ machine. And your driving skills have improved greatly since you taught me to drive her. "

The Doctor shoved his hands into his pockets and sighed as he rolled back on the balls of his feet. "Yes, that's correct, but I drive best when you're with me on the weekends, you know that."

"Just pretend I'm standing next to you and I'm sure you'll have a steadier hand."

"I already do that every day, Martha."

Martha's face softened and she smiled. Then she sighed and rolled her eyes. "Oh, alright; just try to make it home at a reasonable hour. I'd like to continue what we started in the kitchen before I'm ninety."

_Worked every time_, the Doctor thought. He nodded at Martha. "I'll aim for nine-thirty. No, I'll aim for eight o'clock. Maybe I'll even be early this time!" He grinned and bounced on the soles of his Converses a little, pleased with his idea.

Martha frowned at him. "Let's not push our luck; before midnight is good enough."

The Doctor laughed as he watched his wife leave their home. And there was no mistaking that grin she tried so hard to hide.

He made sure all the locks were secure in the house before heading to their spare bedroom. He opened the door to the mid-sized room where the TARDIS awaited him, another constant in his life. Without a second thought he entered his ship and smiled softly in reply to the TARDIS' hum in greeting. He traipsed up to the gangplank and started her up. With a familiar wheeze and v_worp vworp_ of her engines, the TARDIS dematerialized and headed into space.

Yes, his life was drastically different from what it was years ago but the Doctor couldn't seem to see it as a bad change. Martha gave him the freedom and support to continue to save the worlds in the universe, reminded him that it wasn't about him anymore, but about the people that needed his help. There was a time when he had forgotten that he saved lives for the greater good and not just to get a quick shot of adrenaline. She was the one that welcomed him no matter if he failed or succeeded at his missions. There were no words for how much he was thankful for that.

Martha gave him acceptance.

She gave him comfort.

She gave him love and passion.

She gave him hope.

She gave him—

The Doctor was interrupted from his thoughts by Martha's old cell phone in the deep recesses of his suit pocket. It took him a moment but he found it. His eyes looked heavenward as a grin spread across his face.

"Yes, Lovely?"

"Could you bring home a carton of milk? I forgot to ask before I left this morning." Martha said. Her voice soft and a little anxious; the stresses of her day were already getting to her.

"Of course. See you this evening, then?"

"Wild horses couldn't drag me away. Bye."

"Bye," the Doctor said pleasantly, if not a bit wistfully. He set in the coordinates for the planet that had left a distress call on his psychic paper late the previous evening.

She gave him normalcy, the Doctor mused.

She grounded him.

And the Doctor wouldn't have it any other way or with any other woman.


End file.
